


Bullfish

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Bullfish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charliedzilla](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=charliedzilla).



“Yeah but like, where does the pain go, you know what I'm sayin'? Like why does it feel good, what's happening? Is it because it's what I deserve?” hacked Cronus.

“Shhhh, shush kid,” replied Rufioh. He put one finger over his lips to indicate Cronus to shut up, and another on Cronus', also to tell him to shut up. Cronus had been self harming more than usual the past two weeks. The damage was also getting more drastic, but not life threatening and he knew it. This was his worst episode yet.

Rufioh brought Cronus in for a hug, looking at Cronus' mangled horn. He tried to saw his horns off. The amount of effort and commitment was commendable. Rufioh could never convince himself to hurt himself, much less try to saw off a horn. Even bumping it while going through a doorway hurt, but to saw through of your own will? Wow. Cronus continued to cry into his chest, beating his blood-soaked fists against Rufioh's shoulders.

“Let's uh, let's get you sitting down at least okay?” suggested Rufioh, trying to move Cronus to the living room. He held his hand and pulled him towards the sofa. Rufioh sat down first, making sure he didn't damage his wings. Politeness was never something he necessarily cared about. He brought Cronus down onto his lap. Cronus' pain-fueled anger turned into sobbing. He lost control of his body and just convulsed in Rufioh's lap. He was holding Rufioh by the vest and tugging on it violently, blood streaming down his face.

“Uh, shhh, please, it's okay kid, let it all out, why don't you tell me what happened.” He started petting Cronus on the head who howled with pain after Rufioh accidentally touched the skin around his injured horn.

“Ah, f- fuck, shit no I'm so sorry man come here. Oh shit,” exclaimed Rufioh.

“No it's alright, if it was up to me I wouldn't even have these stupid things, they just get in the way!”

His voice started rising again, and he was taking deeper breaths. He was getting angrier again. He sat up, his hands balled up into fists and placed on his knees.

“Yeah, see, that's better, just breathe deep, everything will be okay. Do you want like a drink of something?”

Cronus had taken up drinking human alcohol since they met Rose and Dave. It made him feel terribly sick and it stayed in his body much longer than it did for humans or land dwellers because of his sea dweller vascular system. Normally Rufioh would've tried to talk him out of it instead of encouraging it, but it was one of the few things he imagined could help him right now. 

“Yeah,” he inhaled lightly twice, swallowed and exhaled, “I think I need some of the brandy right now.”

Rufioh hesitated about leaving the room, leaving Cronus unsupervised, but he didn't have much of a choice. He looked back at Cronus. He was sitting on the sofa, tense and probably on the brink of tears, blood streaming down his face, soaking into his shirt.

Rufioh quickly ran back to the sofa, pushed Cronus back by his shoulders, climbed on top of him, kneeling over and around Cronus' legs. He grasped his face, sliding two fingers behind his fins, two fingers in front. Cronus tried to look away, but Rufioh brought his face back.

“Man up!” said Rufioh. He knew what it would do, he didn't say _troll up_ , or anything similar. It had to be man up, and it worked. Cronus' face relaxed, his eyes rose and his chin began to quiver. Rufioh seized the opportunity and kissed him on the lips. Cronus' breath was cold and his face was limp but Rufioh just moved his hand to the back of his neck and pulled him in closer. Cronus finally started to kiss back and wrapped his arms around Rufioh's back, but slid down around his hips. Rufioh pulled away, and instead put his forehead on Cronus' and looked him in the eyes.

“I'll be right back okay doll, don't worry everything's going to turn out fine, I promise okay?”

And with that he disappeared through the door. Cronus sat on the couch, not knowing what to do next. He felt reassured that everything would, in fact, turn out okay. Rufioh couldn't really pull off a lie like that while making eye contact. The best he could do right now was clean up. And with that, he carefully took off his shirt, making sure it doesn't get caught in his horn.

The blood on his arms had started to dry, coagulating, and the cuts were beginning to itch. As much as he wanted to scratch himself, it would just make it bleed more, and put him in more pain, but the cuts beckoned him, their passive itch wouldn't go away all by itself, and wouldn't be ignored. Rufioh was still out of the room, giving Cronus an opportunity to pick at himself. He tried to resist for a few more seconds but failed. He dug his long yellow nails into the cuts on his forearm, scratching violently. Cold blood began so bleed out of his wounds again and he almost let out a whimper of pain as he picked deeper. It was a sort of deserved pain, for lying to himself, for lying to Rufioh, for being such a fucking disappointment to everybody for always needing help. For being pathetic, useless and just a burden to everybody. The list went on and on. It was obviously no longer about an itch, Cronus was right back to injuring himself.

He had pulled his legs up, and was stopping himself from being too loud by biting the back of his hand, as he clawed into the raw cut. He could feel every fiber of muscle tense up as he stuck his nails in. He was now less troll, or human, and more of a scavenger picking at a lifeless carrion.

As he was huddled up, the bleeding arm, tears and anger made the air around him cold and humid. Not a spring morning cold humid. The kind you'd find draped around a haunted house, a graveyard or abandoned church. The wetness clung to him, isolating him from the world. Cronus was lost. More lost than usual. He started getting light headed, both his hands and his bare chest covered in blood.

Rufioh coughed from the doorway, holding a bottle in one hand, and the glasses with ice in the other. Cronus turned his head abruptly, suddenly pulled out of his own world. It had only been a short while but he forgot about Rufioh, everything just seemed to disconnected from him, as if the world was always turning, even without him in it. As if he wasn't a part of it, no role to play, nothing to ground him. He saw the pity in Rufioh's gaze, as if Cronus was already defeated.

Cronus' eyes dashed around, trying to avoid eye contact, but not wanting to look away from Rufioh. The look Rufioh was giving him wasn't helping at all. Cronus didn't register sympathy, he registered that he's a burden, that Rufioh didn't need him, that this was a favor, a charity case.

“Do you mind if we spill some of this to clean you up?” asked Rufioh, swinging the bottle before him.

“Nah, sure, whatever.”

Rufioh walked up to Cronus and sat next to him. He tore a strip of fabric from his sleeve, dowsed it in brandy and took Cronus' arm by the wrist.

“This'll probably hurt a lot because you're an idiot,” said Rufioh, right before swiping the red cloth over Cronus' arm. His arm jerked back in pain and a grin grew across Rufioh's face.

“At least now we can see who you are inside.”

He tried to get the alcohol everywhere, first because he didn't want Cronus to develop an infection, and second some part deep inside him really wanted him to whimper again.

After cleaning the wound itself and ignoring the rest of Cronus' blood drenched body, Rufioh sat down next to him and poured each of them a glass from the half empty bottle. He couldn't really drink and didn't understand how Cronus could, but he was going to do it anyway, at least this once for Cronus.

It was only about two minutes of holding the glass before Rufioh gave up any hope of actually drinking it and he placed it on the table in front of them. He reached over to get his guitar from it's stand and started strumming it gently, waiting for Cronus to finish his drink. Cronus drank slowly, trying to pretend he enjoys the bitter taste of the brandy. After finally finishing it, and chewing up the ice, Rufioh stopped playing and turned to him.

“Why don't you sing me a song?” he said, and started plucking at the strings again.


End file.
